Back when I was a senior in college, I worked part-time at the graduate business school, Land of Retardation (I still really liked that job, though). There was one day when (I think) Josh and I had to go to some office to switch out toner cartridges, and while we were waiting for someone to direct us to the delinquent printer, we stood near one of those obligatory bulletin boards littered with pictures of student and staff spawn. You know, an exhibit of very unfortunate children who probably would've been better off dribbling down their mothers' chins.
Names of the kids and parents accompanied every picture. As I glanced over the board, I noticed a little girl whose parents had named her- I'm dead serious- Ennui.
Josh and I had a good laugh, and shared as much with Daryl when we got back to our office.
I was just thinking last night about how poor little Ennui is around five or six years old now, probably older. Just entering school, where her name will be repeatedly butchered and later ridiculed once her peers learn what it means. Remy and I think her best bet is to learn a musical instrument and become the headliner of a goth band.